


Saudade

by sherlockpond



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Internal Conflict, M/M, Team Feels, The Year That Never Was (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24667195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: Ianto’s standing outside a gay bar in Cardiff City Centre trying to convince himself to go inside. He needs to prove something to himself, even if he’s not sure what that is right now.[The majority of this is set between Series 1 and Series 2, after the Master disaster but before Jack returns.]
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beleriandings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/gifts).



> Oh, hey. I got this idea in my head, it wouldn't leave, and 6k later here we are.
> 
> I've got to say a huge, huge thank you to Beleriandings/Daniela for putting up with me asking for opinion after opinion, or basically being the most patient beta. To be honest, the majority of inserted scenes aren't my idea, and I wanted to gift it because it was a joint effort. So thank you so much. 
> 
> I can feel more ideas coming, but I might finish off 'Push and Pull' before starting anything else.
> 
> Can I just say, as a disclaimer, that this is based on my own experiences, so I don't mean to upset anyone with interpretation or representation of places or the reactions of characters. 
> 
> 'Saudade' verb/noun. (Portuguese)  
> “The feeling of longing for an absent something or someone that you love but might never return.”
> 
> Happy reading!

Sexuality.

It’s _not_ something Ianto’s spent too much dwelling on in the past, not really, but ever since Jack ‘disappeared’ around seven weeks ago, it’s been on his mind more and more. 

So now he’s standing outside a bar in Cardiff, two rainbow flags proudly flapping in the early evening breeze - he winces at their obviousness and pushes the door open before he can change his mind (or overthink his black casual jeans and denim jacket).

It’s crowded. Really crowded. There’s people crammed into every space. The bar is almost hidden completely, if only noticeable by the bartenders moving up and down the backbar preparing drinks before handing them to customers and exchanging money. Ianto swallows and heads over to the bar, trying as much as possible to blend in and not stick out like a sore thumb - he’s promised himself a minimum of one drink before calling it a night if it all feels a bit much.

Approaching the bar, a remarkably attractive man turns with his hands full of fresh pints and gives him an appreciative smile before disappearing into the crowd. Ianto doesn’t really know what to do except politely smile back and melt into the space the other man had left at the bar and try to gain the attention of a free member of bar staff.

He waits for a few minutes, watching other customers order and pay for drinks before a smiley woman behind the bar points at him, she’s petite with strawberry blonde shoulder length hair, a shock of pink visible underneath.

“You were next, right?” she asks.

Ianto nods “Uh, yeah. I’ll take a pint of Tropicana,” he says, she nods - still smiling - and grabs a glass from under the bar, before putting it under a tap and filling it with hazy pale ale.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” she continues, Ianto notes her accent is a little milder than his own but still distinctive “you by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Ianto says, smiling nervously “is it really that obvious?”

She laughs warmly “Don’t you worry, I’ve worked here for ages. I know the look.” she finishes the top of the beer and places it on the bar “that one’s on me, so don’t go running off. It’s probably a bit...overwhelming, but trust me. Once this rush has died down, I’ll keep you company,”

Ianto smiles gratefully “Thanks,” he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip of heavenly fruity beer.

She winks at him, still smiling, and turns her attention to another customer.

Looking around, Ianto sees groups of people clustered together enjoying the heated atmosphere of the bar. It looks Victorian, with high dark wood panels that end in beautifully ornate ceiling scrolls, original mirrors are set into the wood every few panels, amidst the occasional high window. The mirror, Ianto assumes, would have probably been an ornate feature once upon a time, but now they have cocktail deals penned expertly on them in a rainbow of colours. Ianto trails his gaze around further, there’s an old wooden staircase in the far corner that a few people are just standing on making idle conversation - he guesses it probably leads to another equally crowded space. Ianto sticks to standing at the bar, near enough to the exit to beat a hasty retreat should he want to.

A man manages to slide next to him and politely puts his hand up to get the attention of one of the bar staff, Ianto watches out of the corner of his eye as he smoothly gives his order and pulls out his phone - idly flicking through texts and emails. Ianto tries to focus on the reason he came here. He tries to eye the man as conspicuously as possible - he’s average height, dark hair, good jaw. But there’s nothing that screams out to Ianto to try to talk to him. So he takes another sip of his drink and watches from the corner of his eye as the other man loads up a tray with drinks and heads into the throng of people and disappears from sight.

Ianto keeps watching, in an attempt to stop himself from over-assessing and spooking himself. He spots several attractive men around his own age who buy either a single beer, or a few - but he doesn't feel like he wants to try to start up a conversation. Every time he considers it, something feels wrong and he holds his tongue. Ianto sighs and looks down at his beer, watching the bubbles rise to the surface and pop into nothing. 

“You know, I didn’t think people came to bars to look depressed,”

Ianto looks up and meets the gaze of a reasonably tall man with dark auburn hair and a lovely array of freckles, he looks a little bashful - like he’s not sure if he’s completely fucked up before he’s started. He’s dressed casually, a dark green flannel shirt over a grey top, finished off with some faded black drainpipe jeans and leather boots. He looks ordinary.

Ianto wrinkles his nose “Long week,” it’s vague and it covers his bases, the other man nods and leans against the bar.

“So I see. Would talking to a stranger about it help at all? I’ve been told I’m good at listening,” there’s a very light valley’s accent to his voice.

“I wouldn’t want to take up your time. I’m not really sure why I’m here. I think I’m testing the waters,” Ianto scratches the back of his neck self consciously.

“Ah. Been there.” the bloke nods understandingly “it’s all a bit...gay, isn’t it?”

Ianto tilts his head and laughs a little nervously “Yeah, just a bit. Like, that’s fine. And _I’m fine_ \- I think. But - -,”

“- - it’s just a bit _much_ ,” the other man finishes gesturing to the rainbow _everything_ , Ianto nods and takes a swig of beer - replacing the half empty glass on bar mat “I’m Iwan,” he holds out his hand.

Ianto digs deep, takes it and shakes firmly “Ianto,”

“Ah. Nice to meet another man who’s part of the ‘strange Welsh name’ club,” Iwan says, chuckling “certainly makes bank calls interesting, let me tell you,”

Ianto relaxes a little “Yeah, tell me about it. So...what do you do?”

Iwan takes a sip of his beer “I’m a property developer. Did a degree in art, so I thought I better use it,”

Ianto can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up in his chest “Does anyone actually use their degrees nowadays?”

Iwan shakes his head, grinning “I doubt it. So what about you? I’m guessing you work somewhere big and full of pressure, judging by the way you’re staring down your pint,”

Ianto tilts his head from side to side “Sort of, I work for the government. Paper pushing, deadlines, people management,”

“Yikes,” Iwan says, looking at Ianto sympathetically “sounds like you need a career change,”

“More than you know,” Ianto says thinking back to the previous evening - digging remnants of alien fur out of the Hub water filters (there’d been an explosion of alien bodyparts which Ianto was half-tempted to retcon from his brain).

“Do you smoke?” Iwan asks, pulling out a tin from his back pocket and opening it up - revealing a pouch of tobacco, a few filter sticks and some Rizlas.

Ianto chews the inside of his cheek “I shouldn’t,” he replies, but Iwan’s deft hands quickly roll two cigarettes with little effort, and before he knows it Ianto’s following him outside into the smoking area.

“I thought,” Iwan starts, pulling out a lighter and sparking his cigarette “that maybe you might need an excuse to get out of there,” he hands Ianto the lighter and watches him carefully as Ianto lights his own cigarette, taking a grateful first inhale.

“Like I said, there’s nothing wrong with it all - I just don’t know if that’s all...me,” Ianto says, trying to articulate as cohesively as possible.

Iwan looks at him knowingly “How long’s it been?”

Ianto’s brow furrows in shocked confusion “Excuse me?”

“Uh- god. _No_ \- I mean - how long ago did you realise? No one comes to a gay bar without a _slight_ disposition for trying new things,” Iwan says quickly and slightly apologetically.

Ianto’s a little taken aback “Oh. Um, well. I think I’ve sort of always _known_ to a certain extent.” he says “but it wasn’t until recently that something happened,” Ianto thinks back to _that kiss_ after Abbadon. It hurts to think back on it, for some reason. 

He takes another drag of the cigarette. “You?”

Iwan lets out a long drag of smoke and it drifts into the air, twisting in the final light of the day “Couple of years. Had a few girlfriends, never thought I liked men until one night I got a bit drunk and slept with my then girlfriend’s brother on a stag do,” Ianto chokes on his inhale and Iwan nods “yeah, it all got a bit weird after that. Woke up with a hangover and the realisation that perhaps I wasn’t as straight as I thought,” he shrugs nonchalantly “what can you do?” he flicks his finished cigarette to the curb.

Ianto returns the shrug with a small smile and they lull into quietness, he looks out across the street at all the other pubs and restaurants, the hustle and bustle of people. When he looks back to Iwan, he finds him staring with a hint of something darker in his eyes. Ianto _knows_ that look, he might not have a lot of experience with blokes other than Jack but he knows _that_ look. 

Realising that this is the moment that he either politely excuses himself and leaves, or moves towards the unknown, Ianto moves a little closer to Iwan and returns the look, dropping his almost finished cigarette on the ground. 

Iwan gives him a look “This isn’t me forcing you to do anything. I just think you’re an attractive bloke and it was a crying shame to leave you looking so bloody miserable,”

Ianto smiles wryly and notes how Iwan seems to come across as a normal guy, no immediate creepiness, no strange or immediately gross habits. It’s not been long, but there’s a reason he’s here and this is it. 

Iwan sets his beer on a table nearby and turns his attention back to Ianto, he slowly takes a hand and cups Ianto’s cheek, Ianto’s breath catches and he feels his heart speed up a little. He kind of wishes he’d had another beer before this had happened. Ianto feels the heat from Iwan’s skin and closes his eyes as they bridge the final few inches between them, their lips pressing together.

It’s... different. That’s Ianto’s first thought about Iwan. He’s different to Jack - not in a hugely unpleasant way, just a bit softer, gentler. Jack was all fire and passion and biting. Iwan is more like warm embers and firmness. A few people whistle but they both ignore it in favour of their current situation. Ianto moves his hands to Iwan’s hips and the other man follows suit, except one hand goes astray and dips under Ianto’s denim jacket and then his t-shirt, rubbing gently into the skin of his lower back, causing heat to burn in his stomach.

Not expecting _that_ Ianto lets out a small gasp and Iwan chuckles. They pull apart, slightly out of breath.

“Did that answer anything for you?” Iwan asks, his smile edging towards cocky. And god Ianto just wants to do something about that, which in turn shocks himself. Ianto presses himself a bit closer and puts on a cool (or as cool as he can muster) exterior.

“I think I have a few questions, if I could just get another quick demonstration?” Ianto replies, smoothly as he can - feeling a stab of pride when Iwan looks a little shocked. The taller man nods and they meet again for another kiss, this one feels different, like there’s a hint of a promise of something yet to come. Ianto’s quite happy losing himself in the sensation when suddenly someone says his name.

“Ianto?”

Ianto pulls back from Iwan and turns his head quickly to the person.

It’s Tosh.

It’s lovely, quiet, brilliant Toshiko, standing on the edge of the smoking area looking mildly surprised. She looks gorgeous, boots, jeans and a white t-shirt, finished with a black leather jacket which has a small pin on the lapel - a flag with purple, pink and blue. 

She looks half-shocked, half amused.

“Tosh!” Ianto says, not really knowing what to say next “uh...Tosh, this is Iwan. Iwan, this is Tosh. We...work together,”

Iwan looks far more collected than should be allowed right now as Tosh approaches them, smiling nervously “Lovely to meet you,” Tosh says, shaking his hand “I didn’t realise you had the night off,”

“Uh, yeah. Thought it was about time.” Ianto feels more than a little awkward, mainly because out of everyone, it’s Tosh who’s just caught him snogging a nigh-on complete stranger in the smoking area of a gay bar in the middle of Cardiff “You?”

“I’m on call,” Tosh explains, she smiles bashfully “but...I’m going on a date,”

Ianto tries to not look surprised “Oh. That’s... lovely.” 

Tosh smiles “Hopefully it’ll be without any interruptions,” she looks at him knowingly and Ianto nods “well, I better not keep her waiting. It was nice to meet you, Iwan,” with a final smile Tosh disappears through the smoking area door and into the bar.

Ianto turns to Iwan “Sorry about that, I don’t bump into colleagues very often.”

Iwan shrugs “It happens.” he spots a taxi rounding the corner on the far end of the street “how would you feel about getting out of here?”

Ianto opens his mouth to make an excuse, it’s second nature now, making excuses. But he stops himself. Iwan seems nice enough, and if he ends up being a bit odd, Ianto can take care of himself. 

“Yeah. Sure,” Ianto grins at him and gets a mischievous smile in return.

The taxi is hailed and they both climb in. Iwan gives the woman driving his address and Ianto feels nervousness bubbling in his stomach when Iwan’s hand softly takes his knee and rubs firmly into the material of his jeans.

The journey only takes ten minutes, Ianto knows the area well. They pull up outside a block of flats which Ianto distinctly knows from his time around the Plass, they’re the furthest flats on the far right of the Bay that overlook the old Docks. He’s almost certain Owen has a flat here - but he tries not to think about Owen as Iwan’s hand presses into his lower back, guiding him towards the foyer.

They stand in the lift and nervousness begins to creep into Ianto’s stomach - this is a little unfamiliar. Plus, it’s been nearly two months now since Jack and what if he’s forgotten how to have sex with a man? This could be embarrassing. What if he’s not as good as Jack said? What if he does something wrong?

Ianto fights the urge to flee and follows Iwan to his front door, effortlessly slipping the key in and unlocking it, absent-mindedly flicking on the light as he walks in.

The first thing that strikes Ianto is the view. It’s beautiful. A full vista of the Bay in the dark. Orange lights glow, streetlights, office lights, the iridescence behind the Millenium Centre, illuminating Welsh mixed with English words. The ocean ripples and shifts, colours reflecting across the surface.

Iwan notices Ianto’s enraptured gaze and laughs softly “Not bad, eh?”

“It’s beautiful,” 

Iwan’s managed to pour two glasses of whisky without Ianto noticing. He walks over to Ianto and hands him one, Ianto takes it gratefully and turns back to the view - watching the lights twinkle.

They drink in silence, Ianto’s scared that if he says anything he’ll stumble over his words. He can’t quite wrap his head around how _easy_ it was with Jack in comparison to this. He feels nervous, and he can’t quite pinpoint why.

Eventually, his whisky glass empties and Iwan carefully takes it from Ianto’s hand, placing it on the side. Ianto doesn’t really think too deeply about anything because suddenly Iwan’s mouthing at the juncture of his neck and he lets himself be guided to the bedroom.

***

The next morning, the light from the panoramic window is what wakes Ianto and he suddenly wishes to be hidden in a dark bunker under a secret base wrapped in the arms of a cocky American. Iwan’s still asleep (thank goodness) as Ianto carefully gets out of bed and hunts for his clothes, the floor creaks and he shoots a look over at the other man, praying he doesn’t wake up. Pants found and on, his t-shirt is eventually discovered in the doorway, and his jeans in the en suite. His denim jacket is draped across the sofa - Ianto pulls it on and grimaces at the tackiness of lube on his thighs. He needs a shower desperately. He quickly looks in the mirror and vainly tries to pat his hair into a less fucked shape before nipping into the kitchen to grab some water. He’s just filling up a glass when he hears someone behind him.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Ianto feels shame and guilt rush through him, he turns to see Iwan - he’s been caught.

“Shit,”

Iwan laughs, standing in his boxers looking amused “As one night stand escapes go, I hope, for your sake, you’re _not_ a secret agent,”

“Huh, yeah.” Ianto internally cringes and puts the used glass next to the sink.

“Did you get what you needed?” Iwan asks ruefully and Ianto nods.

“Yeah...thanks,” Ianto moves out from the kitchen and towards Iwan, he presses a kiss to the other man’s cheek and pulls back looking a little self-conscious. Iwan shakes his head and leans down to kiss Ianto properly.

“I’d give you my number but I get the feeling you wouldn’t call,” 

Ianto opens his mouth to protest “Iwan - -,”

“- - no. It’s fine. We’re both adults. I think you needed last night more than I did,”

Ianto can’t argue with that, he bites his lip “I should probably go,”

Iwan nods looking a touch sad “Hopefully we’ll bump into each other again,” 

“Hopefully,” Ianto says hollowly, before Iwan walks him to the front door and opens it so Ianto can leave.

“Thanks for last night,” 

“You too,”

With a final wave, Ianto walks down the corridor towards the lift and hears the door close behind him. As he walks, his legs begin to ache in a very familiar way. He stabs the button to the lift and waits, tapping his foot on the expensive carpet.

The lift arrives after what feels like an age and Ianto steps inside. The doors close and he descends one floor down, the doors open again.

To Owen and Gwen.

The three make eye contact and freeze. Ianto looks at Owen and then at Gwen, she looks tired, there’s some traces of smudged dark make-up, and her eyes look red around the edges. Owen looks a touch morose but mainly tired, too.

“Busy night?” Owen says, eyeing Ianto’s neck as they step into the lift.

Ianto grits his teeth and scowls, lifting his collar “Yep,”

The doors close and the lift descends, and after what feels like _yet another_ eternity they finally reach the foyer. Ianto immediately shoots out the lift and towards the exit.

“I’d offer you a lift, but my car only has room for two,” Owen calls from behind him, Ianto turns but keeps walking backwards.

“Don’t worry about it. I need the walk.” he replies hastily. 

“In a bit,” Owen shouts, Ianto just pushes the foyer door open.

As soon as the cool air makes contact with Ianto’s face he feels a thousand times better. He takes a deep breath and thrusts his hands in his pockets and briskly walks in the direction of the Hub.

***

When Ianto gets in, he flicks on the light in the Tourist Information and then heads down to the Hub, the place seemingly empty.

Ianto goes straight down to the showers, retrieves a spare towel and suit from his locker, hanging it on the back of the door. He peels off clothes he’s barely had on for an hour and steps under the spray, letting it wash off lube, come and sweat. He groans as the water releases tension he was unaware of holding.

After spending perhaps a little _too long_ in the shower, Ianto turns the water off and towels himself down, slipping into his suit and feeling a bit more like himself.

Ianto grabs his dirty clothes and bundles them into his locker (a problem for later) and pulls on his spare shoes before heading back up to the Hub, his hair drying in the cool air. As he climbs the steps he spots movement near the coffee machine - he rolls his eyes.

“Owen, if you want coffee you just have to learn to be - -,” Ianto rounds the corner and sees the culprit - it’s Tosh. “- - patient,”

Tosh smiles awkwardly “Sorry Ianto, I just needed some hot water. I have a jar of instant for emergencies.”

Ianto’s mood instantly changes “No, no - don’t worry. Let me get some proper coffee going,”

Tosh smiles gratefully “Thanks,” she goes to leave for her desk but stops “Ianto... about last night,”

“It’s fine,” he replies immediately, loading up the coffee machine with fresh granules “don’t worry about it,”

“I know. But I just wanted to say, it was nice to see you happy,” Tosh continues “after everything with Jack, it’s difficult, so... I’m glad that you’re going out.”

The younger man smiles “Thanks, you too,”

“Was he nice?” Tosh asks quietly.

Ianto thinks back to the previous night “Yeah. He was nice. But…,”

“But?”

“But it answered a few questions,” Ianto says quietly, he picks up a clean mug and puts it under the coffee filter and presses a button, watching fresh coffee pour into the cup. Tosh senses his uncertainty and lingers, waiting for him to continue “I don’t think it’s men in general - although I can’t really rule it out,” he stops and pours milk into a stainless steel jug and moves the steaming wand in and fires it up - Tosh watches him. The milk foams and he turns the steam off. 

“I think...I think it’s just Jack,” Ianto finishes, feeling immediately a little lighter.

Tosh nods understandingly “Well, if you ever need to talk - I’m right here,”

“I know,” Ianto says appreciatively “same to you, too,”

Tosh smiles as she watches Ianto pour hot milk into the coffee, he hands it over to her.

“Thanks,”

“Anytime,”

Tosh retreats to her desk and Ianto checks his watch - Owen and Gwen are _more_ than late now. He fusses with the coffee machine and then makes three more mugs, putting one on Owen’s desk, and then one on Gwen’s before taking his own down to the archives.

Drawing up a chair, Ianto sets his coffee down on top of the filing cabinet and looks down at the stack of reports that need to be organised.

He feels bad for Iwan, but at least he has a clear idea about things now. The sex had been good but it hadn’t felt the same as did with Jack, or Lisa for that matter. Clearly there needed to be some kind of connection with the person, and Iwan had been _nice_ but it hadn’t really felt like enough.

Ianto takes out the first report and starts alphabetising it, but he can’t focus.

_What if it’s just Jack?_

He stares at the report in his hands and realises he’s more confused now than he was before.

_Shit._

Ianto pushes it to the back of his mind (as much as he can) and tries to lose himself in the monotony of filing. He’s around an hour in, moving papers, shuffling around folders, labelling artifacts, when he hears the scuff of shoes behind him. He turns his head and is greeted by the sight of Gwen - she looks as miserable as she had earlier that morning, but she’s more fresh faced.

“Hey,” she says quietly, moving into the room “I was just looking for something, wondering if you could help?”

“Yeah, of course. What do you need?” Ianto sets down the file he was holding and turns to face her properly. Gwen manages a small, grateful smile and looks down at a post-it note in her hand.

“There’s been reports of a UFO over the Gower, Owen thinks it’s Tracoan from the video - but I need to check it alongside any reports we’ve already got. Last time they weren’t so friendly.” she holds the post-it out for Ianto to take “we’ve got an interaction on Earth recorded back in the fifties but I don’t think the reports have been put on the computer database, so anything else you’ve got would be great,”

Ianto regards the post-it “‘Course. It’ll be the next floor down. I’ll show you if you like, in case you need them again?”

Gwen nods “Please,”

Ianto leads the way, turning down the corridor and towards a set of stairs. He can feel Gwen watching him, they make it to the next floor before she says something.

“Listen, what you saw earlier - -,”

Ianto stops outside the door and holds his hand up “It’s really none of my business,”

“I know. But still, I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” Gwen gives him a serious look “it wasn’t what it looked like - it’s just - it’s just been so _difficult_ , you know? With Jack not being here. And I...I don’t know if I’m cut out to lead Torchwood. Not really. I panicked last night, whilst Rhys was out, and ended up sleeping on Owen’s sofa - I didn’t know who else to go to.” she pauses “I just can’t help but think - what if he _never_ comes back?” she stops and takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes and taking a moment “I just don’t want to let you all down,”

Ianto gives her a sympathetic smile “I mean, I can’t speak for the others but I don’t have any complaints,” he leans against the wall “and as for Jack, he _might_ come back, but I - - _we_ can’t live like that.”

Gwen smiles wryly “I know. I did notice that you looked a little...ruffled this morning,”

The younger man feels heat rush to his cheeks and he turns to the door, hastily stabbing in the release code “It’s nothing, really,”

“That’d be a shame,” Gwen says, sounding a little disappointed “it would be lovely if you were seeing someone - like you say, we can’t live on a maybe,”

The door opens and Ianto stalks over to a filing cabinet marked ‘T (Q - T)’, pulling open a drawer and rifling through it, flicking reports deftly under his fingers. 

He hears Gwen sigh behind him.

“We all want you to be happy, Ianto,”

Ianto closes his eyes, his back still turned and takes a second. He opens them again and keeps looking through the files, eventually, _thankfully_ finding the Tracoan report and turning to face Gwen, desperately trying to keep his expression neutral.

“I’m fine, honestly,” he holds out the file, Gwen looks unconvinced but takes the hint. She plucks the file from his grip.

“Thanks, Ianto,” she offers him a sad smile and lingers for what feels like a long time, it takes all of Ianto’s willpower to try not to feel like he’s being put under a microscope. 

Gwen turns and leaves, Ianto lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes with tiredness. 

He takes a second to gather himself and then locks up the room, heading back upstairs to finish his report archiving.  
  


***

_Two months later_

They’re sitting in a restaurant. A very expensive, French restaurant. Ianto’s never been taken to a restaurant like this before, _he’s_ taken dates to restaurants - especially back in London. But he’s never been on the receiving end of a date, not like this. 

Jack had appeared at his door at seven (promptly) - as agreed, dressed in Ianto’s favourite navy waistcoat, the one with the pocket watch chain and produced a (simply ridiculous and overstated - _very Jack_ ) bunch of red roses. (It’s then that Ianto realises he’s never been given flowers before because he’s literally got nothing to put them in.)

Ianto watches Jack polish off his meal, grinning when he catches the other man’s eye before reaching for his wine and taking a long sip. Jack’s promise of an evening of answers has been mostly successful, he’s spoken of his time away from Torchwood, becoming tangled up with the Master, reconciling with the Doctor, and living through a year of death after death - he doesn’t go into a great amount of detail (but promises more when he feels ready to talk about it).

That had led to some contemplative silence, and Jack silently reaching across the table to take Ianto’s hand, watching himself trace his fingertips over soft skin. It had felt all a bit intimate and Ianto had taken a quick self-conscious look around the restaurant to check they weren’t being watched.

Back in the present, Jack puts his glass down.

“I was thinking... I was gone for a while.” Jack says, looking at Ianto inquisitively.

Ianto feels himself grow a little uneasy “So?”

Jack looks at him pointedly “ _So,_ I wasn’t thinking you’d wait for me to get back,”

“I didn’t,” Ianto says quickly, and then silently kicks himself for being childishly petulant.

Jack arches an eyebrow inquiringly “Oh?”

“Is that surprising?”

“A little - are you sure you shouldn’t be with _them_?” Jack challenges, testing the waters.

Ianto sighs, rubbing a hand down his face “It...it wasn’t the same,”

Jack doesn’t say anything to that, just watches Ianto intently. Eventually he breaks the silence.

“I did miss you, Ianto,” he says, reaching across and putting his hand on Ianto’s.

Ianto looks down at the expensive tablecloth “I missed you, too,”

A waitress passes the table and Jack asks for the bill, Ianto insists on paying half but Jack flat-out refuses. Instead, Ianto puts a twenty pound note on the table and glares at Jack when he goes to hand it back. Jack grins and rolls his eyes, admitting defeat.

They’re walking back towards the Bay along Bridge Street, they pass Dewi Sant Shopping Centre - dark and closed for the day. Their shoulders brush and Ianto tries to enjoy the sensation of there being no life-threatening danger, no adrenaline, nothing but the promise of a shared, warm bed.

But then Ianto spots a tall man walking towards them, he passes under a streetlight and Ianto recognises him instantly.

Iwan. 

(Iwan who currently looks like a bloody Burberry model wrapped up in a long black trench coat and black skinny jeans.)

Ianto tries to turn his head but it’s too late.

“Ianto!” Iwan smiles warmly, just like he had that night weeks and weeks before “how have you been?”

Ianto looks between Jack (who looks vaguely shocked but mostly impressed) and Iwan.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, can’t complain. You?” Ianto desperately wants the ground to open up.

“Not too bad. I hoped we’d bump into each other. Look - -,” Iwan gets out his wallet and starts rifling through it “I wanted you to have my number.”

Ianto looks pointedly at Jack, who’s smirking a little, as Iwan holds out a business card.

“Even if you never call - please take the card, just...just in case,” Iwan says, giving him a hopeful smile.

Ianto takes the card a little reluctantly.

Iwan suddenly notices Jack and extends his hand “Iwan,”

Jack puts on his best charming smile, “Captain Jack Harkness, nice to meet you,”

Ianto _really_ wants the pavement to split open “Iwan, we were just on our way home,”

Iwan all but shakes himself “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Call me - if you want,”

Ianto holds up the card and curtly smiles “Will do,”

He tugs at Jack’s sleeve and they keep walking back towards the Bay. As soon as Iwan is out of earshot, Jack cackles with laughter.

“ _Ianto_ ,” he says, eyes wide. Ianto keeps walking with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Shut your face,” he grumbles, briskly walking.

“Ianto he was _gorgeous_ ,”

“ _I know_ ,”

“You didn’t mention you were _breaking hearts_ whilst I was away,”

“I wasn’t - - I _didn’t_ ,”

Jack jogs to catch up with the younger man “Ianto, wait. Wait,”

Ianto stops and sighs “It wasn’t like that,”

Jack puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder “Okay... okay.” 

“I’m going to say something now, and you’ve got to promise me it won’t go to your head,”

Jack smiles.

“ _Jack_ ,”

“Fine. I promise,”

Ianto swallows and looks _anywhere_ that isn’t Jack “It’s just you, Jack. Iwan’s nice, and _normal_ , but he’s not... _you_ ,”

Realisation crosses Jack’s face and he smiles a little.

Ianto sees the smile and he holds out his hand “Come on, trouble. I don’t need you flirting with any more of my almost ex’s,” 

Jack smiles broadly and takes his hand “Never change, Ianto Jones,”

  
  
  


***

A week later Ianto topples onto the cool sheets of his bed, panting. Jack chuckles from beneath him, equally out of breath - the light from the bedside lamp softening his features. (Ianto had insisted that there had to be _at least_ three dates before sex.)

“Now _that’s_ something to come home to,” he says pressing a kiss to Ianto’s sweaty shoulder.

Ianto agrees, but doesn’t dare give Jack the satisfaction of knowing it. Jack rolls onto his side and kisses Ianto properly, the bedsheet almost artfully tucked around his waist - the _bastard_. 

“I’ll grab a flannel,” he says, crawling over Ianto and dislodging the sheet. 

He saunters off to the bathroom, unapologetically naked.

Ianto groans and sits up “Not the black one, I use that on my face,” he calls.

“Too late!” Jack yells back.

The younger man just flops back into the pillows “ _Great_ ,”

Jack appears in the doorway of the bathroom, black flannel in hand and walks back to the bed.

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow,” he says, and he doesn’t even sound sorry. He approaches the bed and then stops abruptly, lifting up his foot.

“What the - ?” 

Ianto watches as he peels something rectangular from the bottom sole of his foot. 

And then Jack’s face breaks into a huge grin “‘Iwan LLewelyn - Property Management’,”

Ianto suddenly feels more awake, he tries not to mourn the loss of the afterglow.

“Hey, now _there’s_ an idea,” Jack says, lifting up the duvet and handing Ianto his now demoted flannel “I think Iwan might be up for a little bit of fun, don’t you?”

Ianto takes the flannel and quickly gives himself a wipe down “Not going to happen,”

Jack frowns “Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Nope,” Ianto leans over the bed and wraps the flannel in a pair of pants, making a mental note to chuck them in the washing machine tomorrow.

“Not even if I promised and said I’d just watch?” Jack counters crawling on to the bed, pouting.

“Never,” Ianto scoffs “and don’t pretend you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself. You can barely handle that at the best of times,”

“Okay, fine, you got me - but how could you blame me if there’s two gorgeous men in the room? The things I’d do to be the filling in a Ianto/Iwan sandwich,” he looks into the distance wistfully.

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re just going to have to settle for a plain, old Ianto sandwich,”

“Well... I can’t say I’m not _slightly_ disappointed - however I’d say your moves are anything but _plain_ ,”

“Hmmm. I just get the feeling you’re feeling frisky again.”

“And what if I am?” Jack arches an eyebrow.

“If you are, you’re doing all the work this time. I’m knackered,” Ianto throws an arm over his face and spreads his legs lazily.

Jack chuckles and settles between the younger man’s thighs, reaching for the lube “Mr Jones, you’re such a romantic,”

“Always.”

_fin_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a 33k Jack/Ianto fic recently! Why not check it out if you're looking for a new read?
> 
> I'm also on tumblr: 
> 
> sherlockpond.tumblr.com
> 
> Have a brilliant day!


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